Joker Out of the Deck
by S.S.BIRD
Summary: The war is over. Harry Potter is triumphant. George Weasley is absolutely miserable until Fate decides to interfere with the poor red head. She grinned. "Who knows? He might actually succeed this dangerous task to bring you back." Time Travel
1. Prologue

**Hey! This is Bird here.**

**Lately, I've been having ideas fly around in my head, so I decided to create this. I hope you like it.**

**And for the record, I have no idea where this story is going to take me.**

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**Summary: **The war is over. Harry Potter is triumphant. George Weasley is absolutely miserable until Fate decides to interfere with the poor red head. She grinned. "Who knows? He might actually succeed this dangerous task to bring you back."

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**Prologue**

Fate whistled as she looked upon the humans with absolute delight. She was happy as she can be, death and corpses all around her. She grinned when she heard the bloody screams and cries of dying souls being collected, their destination sealed to heaven or hell, not that she really cared about that.

She casually walked toward the white infirmary and caught the sight of the mourning young man. His red head stood out of the stark whiteness of the room, like a spot of blood splattered on the clean canvas.

She hummed.

She has always loved red heads. The whole lot was a bag full of spitfire she couldn't help but want to play with.

Like a hummingbird, she practically flitted toward the gangly, tall man, who was staring with empty eyes at the body in front of him.

The body looked identical to the human, every feature exactly the same, except for the missing ear on the living one. Strangely enough, the corpse looked like he was laughing. The expression was fixed on his face, his eyes glassy.

She couldn't help but instantly like him. It was rare to see someone die with a smile on his face, the phrase quite literal in this case.

With a mischievous glint in her eyes, she tapped the red head's shoulder.

He whirled around instantly at the action, whipping out his wand point blank at her face. There was a fierceness in his glare that some would call animalistic, like a beast ready to bite.

She smirked.

How kinky.

"Fred Weasley. Born April 1, 1978. Twin of George Weasley, missing ear, only physical difference between the two of you. Died on May 2, 1998, at the age of twenty at Battle of Hogwarts where Harry Potter defeated the Dark Lord Voldemort."

She thoroughly enjoyed the shocked look on the man's face, his face pale as she listed of the information. He swallowed hard.

"How the bloody hell do you know that? Who are you?" his voice was hoarse, as if he hasn't talked in a long time. His weariness was back now that the shock wore off, whole body tense.

She couldn't help but be reminded of those damaged souls who came back from war. The battle at the wizarding school could hardly be called a war, but with the death toll written on her scroll, it could be counted as one for the wizards.

She tossed her hair back and grinned. "Fate is my name. Most call me a bitch, but I don't honestly care for such details."

He stared at her with disbelief and snorted cynically. "Right, like I'm going to believe that."

"Oh, you better believe it. After all, I'm in charge of who dies or not. Including your brother's." she added. She watched as he stiffened at the implication, a flash of rage on his face.

"You-You killed him?"

Wasn't that a complicated question. She clapped her hands. "Ding ding ding! We have a winner!" she mock called. She laughed when she saw his murderous expression. It was such a nice, broken look. Oh how she loved when humans give in to turmoil. It always made things so much more interesting.

"Why? _Why?_ What did he ever do?" his voice spoke of anguish and loss. She didn't have it in her to sympathize for doing her job.

"Be mortal."

Her answer made him choke. She continues. "Everyone dies, it was just his time. Though I did add the fact he died laughing. Humans who are capable of doing that is something to be admired."

"So what, this is all a game to you?" he snarled. "You think this is funny?"

She rolled her eyes. "Honey, I've been around for more than _four thousand_ years. Death is _always _a funny topic. You humans always have the misconception that someone could die honorably, when in truth, death is just death. Your bones decompose in the ground and become nutrients to insects and other little critters. There is absolutely nothing more pitiful than that. Only good thing that comes out of it is that I have a new toy to play around with when it happens."

He barely gave her a second before he tried leaped at her, face wild with fury. She, of course, merely disappeared and reappeared behind him, making him stumble forward. She waved a finger at him and tsked.

"Now now. That's no way to get a woman's attention." she sighed in exaggeration. "Groping like that, honestly."

"What do you want?" he demanded. "Here to take his soul?"

"I was." she admitted. An idea started to take form in her mind, her eyes glinting. "However, after meeting you, I might actually change my mind."

"How kind of you." he said sarcastically.

She giggled. "Oh, you'll think so if I tell you my offer."

She'll probably get in a lot of trouble from the higher ups if she did this, but she didn't really give a damn. Hades should get a life, pun intended.

He gave her a mistrustful glare.

She couldn't blame him. It was a good thing he had _some_ common sense.

"How do you feel about time travel?"

***SSB***

Though not many knew this, George Weasley was the older one out of the twins.

Molly Weasley told that tidbit of fact when George was very young, with Arthur being the witness. The father had seen the dawning comprehension on the boy's face, and had worried that his son would use this to his own advantage.

Thankfully, that was not the case.

After that, the older twin made it his personal mission to take care of his twin, doing everything he could to be the best older brother he could. He took his responsibilities very seriously, without the other twin ever knowing.

When Fred wanted to play with his toys or eat his snacks, George let him. When he got sick, George was the one who was at his bedside, making sure to entertain him by reading books and telling jokes and stories that made the other laugh. Whenever his twin needed help, George was there in an instant, a constant companion and friend.

Most people assume it's because they're twins, automatically making them have a special bond. To some degree, that's true. But that reasoning was only close to the real reason.

The only people who knew the truth were George's parents, and his brother Bill. Charlie had been a bit too young then to have paid attention when Fred and George were born.

For years, they were partners. They did everything together, from their love of pranking and having fun to having a particular taste to brunettes (both discovered this when they were thirteen as crushes began to take root).

But that did not mean they were identical in _every _way, like most presume.

George, out of the twins, was the more level headed one. He was the one who made sure both wouldn't get caught (well, not as _often,_ but still) and stop his other half from doing anything _too _reckless. Fred was the more creative one, coming up with the craziest ideas that worked half the time when they experimented products for their joke shop. To George, Fred was the one who kept them together like glue. His insane behavior is what made his other twin _stay_ sane.

When both were together, their mischief could rival the Norse god Loki, colorful chaos splattering everywhere they went. Quite literally and figuratively at times.

So when he saw his brother drop dead on the ground, laughing expression carved in, he wanted to kill himself then and there. All the good things in life faded as he stared into his brother's faraway gaze, seeing something he didn't.

The only thing that held him back was his older brother Percy, ironically enough. The bespectacled red head had yelled in his face when they got to be alone, telling him there was no way in hell he would ever let him die.

The twin without his twin had wanted to laugh and cry at his words, both actions due to hysterics.

So he continued to fight, revenge pumping in his veins as he slashed and killed like never before, a raging demon taking on anything that came his way. He just honestly didn't care anymore if he died on the battlefield. He just wanted it to end.

Didn't care who died because his other half had been ripped away from him.

So the minute the crazy woman said time travel, hope flared up like a bag full of exploding snap, a bit of life coming back to him.

"I'll do it."

She blinked.

"Well, that was fast." She noted dryly, but was smiling happily when she said it.

George took a deep breath in order not to strangle her, looking at her square in the eyes with more severity than anyone would've ever seen him.

"How do I do it?" he demanded. His hand twitched for his wand again in impatience when the claimed to be deity merely stoked her chin, as if jokingly imitating Albus Dumbledore. If the situation wasn't so serious, he definitely would've teased her by that action.

She gave a resolute nod before giving a cheshire grin. "Not so fast little grasshopper. There _are_ rules, much as I hate to admit it." He jerked back a bit when her hand was suddenly in his face, only her index finger raised.

"Rule number one, you obviously can't tell anyone the truth. You lie, you mislead, anything but the real story. Got it?" she said sternly semi-jestingly. At his nod, she continued. "Rule number two, this particular time travel will begin at the beginning of your life. Capiche?"

He was about to nod before he halted. "Wait, when you say beginning..."

She smirked. "Yes, I mean the _very beginning_ of your life. As in, the time you are born."

This thought tilted his world upside down a bit. The implication that he's going to have to relive his whole life was unfathomable to him. He could only imagine how that would work out.

On second thought, he _wouldn't_ need to imagine it if this was the case.

He hung his head, resigned. "Fine fine. Bloody hell this is weird." he muttered out the last part. She snorted.

"Tell me about it." she paused. "Actually, don't."

"Anyway, the final rule is very important." he was thrown off by the suddenly piercing stare she was giving, her expression graver than he had ever seen. "Do not try to change too much of Harry Potter's life."

He frowned, puzzled by her intensity. Harry was admittedly important (he was the bloody Boy Who Lived, duh), but he didn't seem so important that even Fate was interested in him. Yes, he beat the crap out of Voldypants, but he was still just a kid. A bit of dread began to creep in as well as suspicion, a vague idea in mind. "Why would I interfere?" he said slowly.

Fate glanced away, scowling with displeasure. "You could say his home life isn't... well, golden standard."

"Yeah, I figured that." he shot back sarcastically. It didn't take a genius to figure out having bars on windows screamed of abuse. "So you basically don't want me to get involved with his home life? Is that it?"

"Of course I want you to." she snapped, causing George to jump a bit. "Unfortunately, it's not 'allowed.'" she quoted the word by dubbing it with her fingers, annoyance clear in her tone. "Honestly, if he hadn't had such a crappy childhood, he wouldn't have become such an angst driven teenager. Jeez."

While her ranting was a bit humorous to George, he stayed on topic. "Aren't you already breaking the rules by sending me to the past? How's having a better childhood going to change anything?"

She shrugged. "Well, it could or it couldn't. It could go either way to be honest." a sudden, calculative look entered her eyes. "However, there's a better chance of the future not destroying itself if you befriend Potter in his first year of Hogwarts. You could save your brother _and_ save Potter from a lot of pain. It's a win win situation."

George mulled this over before finally nodding. "In other words, help Harry when he needs it." the irony of him, Weasley prankster extraordinaire helping someone _not_ get into too much trouble didn't escape him. Fate bobbed her head.

"Yup. Pretty much." she looked around the infirmary before raising an eyebrow. "You going to say good bye to your family?"

"No." he replied immediately. He knew it sounded heartless, but he wanted to see his twin as soon as possible. "No, that's not necessary."

In just that one second, the deity actually looked understanding. The moment passed and she rubbed her hands together diabolically and smiled.

"Alright. Let's get this show on the road then." she said cheerfully. Before she could do anything though, George just had to ask one question.

"Why are you doing this?"

She paused in her mid gleefulness and quirked up an eyebrow, looking at him as if he was stupid. "For fun. It's been a while since I've seen someone so desperate." she grinned when he bristled at the underhand insult. "Then again, I guess that's why humans have outlived even us immortals."

George frowned. "What do you-"

"Ta ta!~" she interrupted him, reaching out one hand to touch his forehead. The moment she did, he vanished into thin air.

When he was gone, she plopped herself on Fred Weasley's bed and grinned manically at the corpse. "You have one scary brother Mr. Weasley. You're very lucky to have that man at your side."

She grinned. "Who knows? He might actually succeed this dangerous task to bring you back."

***SSB***

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**I hope you liked this and please review soon!**


	2. Chapter 1: Flashes

**Bird here.**

**I thank you for the quick reviews and hope you enjoy this fic. A lot more drama is added in this chapter, which is always good.**

**Cheers!**

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**Chapter 1: Flashes**

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Molly Weasley is a mother.

Come heaven or hell that befalls on her family, she is the steady hand that makes sure all the males in her house did not run around like headless chickens when bad things come. She smacks and yells them into shape, her ferocious temper scaring them into doing what they need to do in an orderly fashion.

Because of her short, plump stature and maternal air, most mistaken her as someone harmless. Any person who did was greatly pitied by both the Prewetts and the Weasleys. The flaming red hair only added to the terrifying effect she had on her victims, whole body crackling with energy while her face turns scarlet.

Fate wasn't kidding when she said all red heads were spitfires.

Her temper was undeniably worse when she was pregnant. With her hormones raging rampant and the responsibility of raising three rowdy boys rested on her shoulders, it wasn't very hard for her short fuse to go off.

Of course, Arthur did everything he could to help, but there was only so much he could do that didn't involve housework or keeping an eye on their finances. Poor as they were, Molly's skills in money management usually kept them afloat.

William was a miracle worker for Molly. Whenever she was tired, he took care of the kids, and sometimes even cooked since Arthur can't to save his life. He was only eight years old, but was mature enough to take on tasks most adults have trouble with. It always made Molly feel a great sense of pride when her eldest son tucks in his siblings into bed or sometimes read bed times stories if the other two boys couldn't go right to sleep.

It's not that she doesn't try to be a good mother. There's just too much to do.

So when nine months had passed with a lot of kicking and screaming along the way, it was a great relief for her to finally be able to hold the twin boys in her arms.

The nurse had smiled at her and asked what she would name them. The names were immediate. Fred and George, just like her late uncles that died during the Grindlewald war.

However, unlike her other three births, something was different.

One of the babies did not cry or shout, instead quietly mewling and instantly going to sleep. Another odd thing was the way he instinctively clung on to his twin's fingers, as if afraid to let go. The behavior worried her, but she was too tired to let that feeling really get to her. In a matter of minutes, she too promptly fell to sleep, a small smile on her face.

***SSB***

Twins, she learned, were ten times harder to manage than normal children.

Since they were both the same age and identical in every single aspect, it was bloody hard to keep track of who was who. When she fed one boy, she sometimes didn't even know whether or not she fed the _right_ boy. If one needed diapers, it took her a few minutes to know which needed a change.

It was more than a little frustrating and made her want to rip her frizzy hair out.

That didn't mean, however, that she regretted having the twins. As strange as it sounded, as more time passed, caring for them became much easier.

Fred was like any other Weasley child, a loud and boisterous attention seeking monster who had no sense of self-preservation. She lost count the amount of times she had to make sure he didn't fall or hurt himself as he crawled around _everywhere_. She didn't even want to imagine what he would be like when he starts walking. Percy had been bad enough during his first year.

George, on the other hand, wasn't like that at all.

Sure he followed his twin around when Fred went somewhere, but he did it in a cautious manner, always looking both ways before he nudged on. If his twin went too far, his pudgy hands would grab on to his twin's clothes, like an owner did to their dog by the collar. It was like his older, brotherly instincts were already kicking into gear, as strange as that sounds.

In a sense, George made raising both of them much easier, since he didn't fuss or cause much trouble at all.

Though the older twin's behavior was peculiar, she never questioned it, dismissing it as part of his nature. She always got the feeling though from George's big, brown eyes that more things were running through his head than she could ever know.

Oh, if she only knew.

The family dynamic went on like this for two and a half years, Fred and George being able to walk before then much to Molly's ire. It was around this period, though, when things started to change.

On a Saturday afternoon when she was reading the Daily Prophet cover to cover, her husband came into the kitchen.

"Molly?" Arthur called out.

"In here!" she answered, her eyes never leaving the newspaper. She heard him walk into the living room where she sat on one of the couches, relaxing for the first time in hours. Glancing up, she immediately straightened when she saw the gangly man's eyes troubled, glasses slipping.

Setting aside the paper, she looked concerned at him. "Arthur? Is something the matter?"

Her worry increased when the man didn't reply. He simply sat down on the couch opposite to her, his face serious. She's never seen her husband like this before, not since the day both her brothers died.

He fidgeted under her gaze and sighed. "Molly, do you think there's something wrong with George?"

She frowned.

This was not what she had expected.

"No." she said slowly. "Is there a reason why you're asking?"

At the question, he pushed his glasses up, a habit he did when he gets agitated. "I was outside today, working out the gnome problem, when I saw Fred and George." he licked his lips, eyebrows creased. "Fred was in the backyard where the gnomes come out and almost got grabbed by one of them."

"WHAT?" she yelled. The man winced at the high falsetto sound and rubbed his ears. Molly couldn't bring herself to care. "What were they doing there in the first place? What happened? Did they get hurt? Arthur!" she snapped.

Arthur raised his hands in a placating motion, ears still ringing from her shouting. "They're not hurt Molly, calm down." relief made her shoulders sag, her whole body slumping more into her chair. He sighed.

"Anyway, George got there before I could, and batted the gnome away." he winced as he remembered what happened. If it hadn't been for the fact the gnome nearly hurt his son, he would've felt incredibly sorry for it.

"George was furious. I've never seen him so angry in my life. Then he-" he stopped before swallowing, amazement shown on his thin face. "he talked."

Molly choked.

"He _what_?"

She was understandably shocked. Though the boy was two years old, George had not once spoken or even gibbered out a sound ever since he was born. For a long time, Molly had worried that he was mute. They even went to a healer to see what the problem was.

She could still remember that day, George sitting unnaturally still on the high chair while waiting for the healer. The out of the place raised eyebrow that clearly signified he was annoyed made him look much too old on his young face.

The inspection was perplexing enough. There was nothing wrong with his vocal chords at all. They did a full on inspection and found that he was a perfectly healthy boy. The healer was even stumped by the result, and had quickly concluded that George simply didn't _want_ to talk.

Molly has no idea why that is, and had wanted more than anything than to demand George for the reason. She would've done it too, if it hadn't been for Arthur.

He convinced her that to push him now would only make it worse, that they just had to be patient. '_Maybe George is just a reserved person_,' Arthur had pointed out at the time. _'Just wait and see_.'

So to hear that her son had finally spoken not to her or Arthur, but to _Fred_, sent bitter disappointment in her stomach.

She knew it was irrational. Fred was his twin for Merlin's sake. It made more sense for George to open up to him first. She knew this in her head, yet her heart still constricted from the news. She closed her eyes, took a deep, calming breath, and finally spoke.

"What did he say?" she asked calmly. Seeing that she wasn't going to blow up, Arthur quickly spoke.

"He yelled at him in _complete sentences_ Molly. He lectured him even, not unlike you to be blunt." he said good naturedly, earning a sharp glare. He ignored it. "He even said, and I quote, 'Don't you ever leave my sight you bloody idiot!'" Arthur shook his head, looking incredulous. "I didn't even know he knew how to curse!"

"Yes, well, he gets it from you." Molly managed to say.

"Uh huh." he deadpanned.

Both knew they were just trying to ease down the sudden tension in the room. They didn't know how to react to this new information. Didn't know whether this was good or bad. Because from the looks of it, there was a possible chance they had a child genius in their hands.

Normal children didn't speak actual words until they were a year old. Normal children don't speak simple, complex sentences until they were three, let alone what George had just done.

The red head woman leaned back on her chair, feeling hopelessly befuddled. "What are we supposed to do?"

Arthur went quiet for a moment at this question before his eyes hardened. Molly recognized the look of determination on his face from the hard set of his jaw and the look in his eyes.

"We observe, nothing more." seeing her about to protest, he raised up a hand to stop her. "We don't know anything for certain, so let's not jump to conclusions just yet. If we judge too soon, then it would alarm George."

Molly frowned. "Wait, he doesn't know you..."

The Weasley shook his head. "No. I left before he saw me." The image of his son holding on to his twin in a death grip flashed in his mind. The scariest part, though, hadn't been just the fact he talked or even how he reacted.

No, what scared Arthur more than anything was the heart wrenching terror that had been written on George's too childish face, as if haunted by something only he could see.

Arthur had wanted to interfere, but held back. The scene looked like something he shouldn't interrupt.

Molly gave a wavering sigh and finally nodded. "All right. We'll do that then."

She didn't fully agree to this, but she knew that Arthur was right. With that in mind, both began to watch George much more closely than before.

As days turned into weeks, Molly marveled over the fact she missed all the signs.

George flat out did not act like a two year old. Heck, a five year old wouldn't have been as mature as him. When Bill helped set the table, George trailed after him, not complaining as he carefully held the cups in his small hands. If Charlie was poking fun at Percy, George would be there to stop the fight. All it took was a sharp look and Charlie was silent as a doornail. It was incredibly bizarre just how well George could manage his older brothers better than she could.

Fred was a different story all together. It was like watching a mother hen pampering her chick. And this was coming from _her_.

He didn't just watch out for Fred like she originally thought. No, he took care of his every single need, no matter how minor it was. One eye was always on his brother, always silently watching with patience not even some grown adults had. There was always something in his gaze though that mildly disturbed the female Weasley.

When he looked at his brother, he looked at him as if he was his whole world. His soulful eyes drank in his brother's being, as if he was afraid his twin would disappear any minute.

_As if he was staring at a ghost._

After a few months, she finally couldn't take it anymore. Watching her son act so abnormal made her emotions go all over the place.

While she felt immensely proud over the fact one of her children was a prodigy (she knew he was, it was obvious to her now), she was also incredibly worried about how this would affect his future. Will he be able to make friends easily? He gets along with his brothers fine enough but that was because they were family. There is a huge difference between strangers and family members. And it wasn't like he was the most social person of the bunch.

She couldn't get answers to any of these increasing worries if she doesn't confront him. So on the day her husband went to work, she quickly went to search for her son.

When she found him, he was predictably with Fred, who was stacking up some blocks on the floor. George quietly sat next to him and occasionally helped, carefully placing the pieces on top with deep concentration. If she wasn't in such a frazzled state, she definitely would've found the expression adorable.

The older twin looked up when he noticed she was in the room, looking both curious and wary by her presence. She coughed a bit, feeling her throat go suddenly dry.

"George, I would like to talk to you in the living room dear." though she said this in a mild manner, both knew this wasn't a request.

George nodded and stood up a bit unsteadily. After a year of being able to walk, he still tripped and stumbled like any other child would. The boy scowled, a hint of frustration on his face.

This was another thing Molly never understood. Whenever he did attempt to walk, it almost looked like he was overreaching his steps, as if he was used to having longer strides.

Before she could ponder this thought more, George patted Fred's head, his face softening minutely, before he turned toward the door and trudged past her.

She quickly went after him and easily walked in front. They reached the sitting area and sat on the couches opposite from one another. It was ironic, since they were the same chairs she and Arthur had sat when they were discussing George. She watched as George wiggled his way up the chair, taking some effort to sit properly. He rocked his legs back and forth, both his hands on his lap, expression expectant.

She felt a lump in her throat. He looked like nothing more than an innocent child, and that thought sent a spike of guilt in her conscience to what she was about to do next.

The two sat without saying anything yet, tension apparent. She cleared her throat in discomfort. George glanced at her and quirked an eyebrow, clearly sensing she was about to talk.

"Are you doing fine dear?" she asked uncertainly, having no idea how else to start. He simply nodded in response.

She took a deep breath and shook her head. "None of that. I know you can answer me."

George's eyes narrowed at her, a flicker of what she could identify as realization passing through. He didn't say anything, causing panic to grow inside her more and more. What if she had pushed too far? What if he won't ever talk again because of what she just did? All her distressing doubts, however, were abruptly faltered when he opened his mouth and _spoke_.

"Yes, mum. I'm fine." his response was short and to the point, yet was so much more childlike than she had expected. For some odd reason, she had always imagined his voice to be exactly who he was: older than he should be.

She couldn't stop the embarrassing near tears that sprung from her eyes. She was quick enough to look down in order to not alarm her son, her head spinning as she did so. This was the first time she has ever hear him talk, the first time he's called her mum.

She managed to calm herself down before she looked up, blinking rapidly as she did so. She gave a wobbly smile when she saw the concern in her son's eyes. The thought that his son cared healed a bit of the feeling of rejection she had felt for a long time.

"George, why haven't you talk this entire time?" she asked softly. She felt terrible when she saw him squirm at the question, but knew that a direct approach was probably the best.

He looked uncharacteristically hesitant before his shoulders finally slumped in defeat. He ducked down his head, gaze away from her.

"I don't want to be treated differently." he muttered.

His response surprised yet also made sense to her. "George-"

"No." he interrupted, his head raising to look at her. "I don't want anything to change."

"Sweetie," she said tenderly. "there's nothing wrong with being special-"

"_I'm not special_." he argued venomously. The moment he did, he blinked. She didn't know who was more surprised by the sudden outburst, her or George himself. The boy let out a tiring breath, looking unnaturally jaded. "Mum, just, _let me be_ for now. _Please_. I-I don't want to be different. I want to stay with you and dad and Fred since I have to watch over him, and Bill since someone has to take care of Charlie and Percy when he's not around since they always seem to be fighting for some weird reason that even _I_ can't figure out-"

"George." she stopped him. He paused in his ranting, his jittery nerves growing out of control the more he blabbered. Molly has never seen George talk so much in his two year old life. The sheer panic in his voice tugged her heart in ways she didn't know possible. She sensed the sincere worry and almost ended the conversation right then and there to calm him down. She ignored that feeling though, knowing she won't get another chance like this.

She reached out his hands and squeezed it comfortingly, which she noticed seemed to calm down the boy by some degree.

"George, listen to me." she said in a commanding tone that immediately made the boy straighten up. "I just want to understand and help you. All this time, you haven't told me or your father anything. I just want to say that, if you ever need help, we will always be here for you. You can rely on us."

His eyes widened at her words, a flicker of confusing, mournful sadness in his eyes. He gulped hard and numbly nodded.

Seeing that she got her message across, Molly smiled and gathered her son in her arms, holding him against her. She felt him stiffen from the sudden contact before hesitantly hugging back, his little hands patting her back awkwardly.

The embrace felt like an eternity before Molly reluctantly let go. The uncomfortable, flustered look on George's face made her chuckle. He really was too adorable.

She jerked her head toward the room where Fred was and smiled. Picking up the dismissal, George jumped off the couch and turned to leave. He paused though before he glanced back, a small smile spreading on his small face. It was the first time she's seen such a happy expression directed at her from him.

"See you mum." with that, he left the room, leaving a very happy and satisfied Molly Weasley in his wake.

***SSB***

"WILLIAM ARTHUR WEASLEY! GET YOURSELF OUT OF THAT BED OR ELSE I'M COMING UP YOUNG MAN!"

The booming voice of Molly Weasley instantly jolted the eleven year old Bill awake, causing him to yelp before he promptly fell of the bed in the process. He landed painfully on his side, making him groan in aggravation.

He felt Charlie rustle on the same bed, mumbling, "Too early in the morning for this."

Bill snorted and winced from sharp pain the action cost him. "Yeah, you and me both mate." he agreed under his breath. Sitting up from where he fell, he shook his head in order to get his still muddy head on straight and stood up, stumbling as he did.

As sleep began to wear off, a sudden realization struck him, making him instantly grin.

He scrambled to the bed and shook his younger brother awake, barely repressed excitement raging in his stomach.

"Charlie. _Charlie._" the boy simply rolled on to the other side of the bed, his back facing Bill. Rolling his eyes, he climbed on top of the bed, shaking more vigorously than before. Realizing that he wasn't going to budge, Bill started to jump up and down on top of the mattress, his high voice exploding in the room.

"_99 bottles of Wiggenweld potions, 99 bottles of potions!~ We take one down, pass it around, 98 bottles of Wiggenweld potions! 98 bottles of Wiggenweld potions, 98 bottles of-"_

"Okay, okay! I get it!" Charlie yelled, giving up on his attempt to cover his ears with the pillow. He glared at the smirking Bill with a glower that looked more like a pout on his chubby face.

Bill laughed good naturedly and playfully punched him on the shoulder. "Come on, we gotta get dressed." he grinned again and puffed out his chest proudly. "Today is the day I go to Hogwarts!"

Charlie gave him a flat look. "You tortured me in the morning for _this_?"

Bill smiled slyly. "Yes, well, you know mum will throw you to the dragons if you don't get up today. I'm just doing you a favor."

"Right. A favor." it was clear from his bland tone that he didn't believe that for one second. The eldest son gave a mock solute before he slide off the bed.

"Come on. We got to get ready before mum blows a gasket again." Charlie sighed with aggravation, but got out of bed all the same, movement sluggish as he moved to the bathroom. The two boys got washed up and dressed fairly quickly, Bill carrying his trunk with a grunt at the heavy weight. He glared at Charlie when he kept on snickering at his misfortune, and advanced on.

When they reached the kitchen, they saw Percy and the twins already at the table, the heavenly smell of food instantly attacking them. Percy was scowling at Fred who kept on tugging on to his arm, blabbering on and on in disconnected sentences. George sat next to his twin and looked faintly amused by the comical display, not stopping Fred's whining.

The eldest Weasley directed a cheerful grin towards George, and plopped himself on the chair right next to him. "Morning George!"

George glanced at him and gave an slight nod. "Morning." his greeted back quietly.

Bill smiled. A long time ago, he realized his brother wasn't a mute like many would think, but was just reserved. These days, he's been talking more than usual, something Bill was relieved about. It made things easier for Bill to know when George needed help.

'_Not that the kid would ever admit something was wrong._' he dryly added in his mind. He squashed that thought immediately down.

Mrs. Weasley interrupted his musing by placing the plate in front of him. Bill impishly grinned when she snapped at Charlie to stop dawdling and sit down to eat. His younger brother caught his action and shot a withering glare in his direction. His grin only grew bigger.

Arthur came down, yawning and scratching his bald head while one hand carried the unread Daily Prophet. Molly scolded him for being late, and shook her head at the usual mess all the males made on the table. The hectic breakfast ended quickly with Molly herding them outside, a muggles car that Arthur borrowed ready for them. Bill dragged his bag and tried to stuff it in the car trunk. The weight kept making him stumble back though, much to his frustration. Just when he was about to call his father for help, he felt someone right next to him pushing as well.

He looked down to see George holding it up, a determined look on his face. Bill was surprised but took the situation in a stride. With both their efforts, the trunk went in with a thunk. Bill turned to George, ready to thank him, when he saw that George was already walking away and going into the car.

Bill wasn't offended. He was used to George's habit to leave at abrupt times.

After four narrow accidents and insane driving later, the red headed family managed to get to Kings Cross in records time. They all hurried to the wall of nine and three quarters and all phased in.

Bill had been told stories from his father about the passage, yet it still didn't prepare him for the strange experience. He noticed though that while Percy, Charlie, and Fred were amazed by the display of magic, George didn't even blink. There was no hint of apprehension of the idea of slamming into a wall. It was a strange reaction to be sure.

The large family all got to the station, his parents being incredibly nervous. It was a perfectly normal reaction, seeing how they were sending off their first born son for a whole year.

"Mum, my hair is fine." Bill tried to squirm his way out of her grabby hands. The endeavor was proven pointless as Molly was relentless and got a hold of his head, fussing and tugging his messy red hair into a 'neat appearance.'

"Oh hush Bill. It will only take a second." she reprimanded. She bit her lips and knitted her brows. "Oh, I _knew_ we should've gotten you a haircut yesterday. It's like a rat's nest!"

Bill rolled his eyes. "Gee, thanks mum."

"Don't use that tone with me!"

After a lot of arguing and convincing, the female Weasley finally gave up, commenting on how it was all Arthur's fault Bill's hair was so untamable. Bill didn't know whether to take offense to this, since he's always quite liked his windblown hair.

The eldest Weasley heard a muffled sound behind him and turned around. George was staring at him with twinkling eyes, one hand covering his mouth.

Bill gave him a half hearted glare, causing the twinkling the grow even brighter. Sadistic younger brothers.

"Oh, you laughing at me now, are you?"

George unabashedly nodded. He snorted.

"Some younger brother you are." he muttered, the end of his lips undeniably twitching. He shifted his face to turn more serious however, making George uncover his mouth to show his confusion at Bill's change of attitude.

Bill laid a hand on his younger brother's shoulder, eyes serious. "George, before I go, I need to tell you something." his brother cocked his head to the side, making him look a lot more innocent. "When I'm gone, take care of the family for me."

George looked surprised by the request by nonetheless nodded, just like how Bill had predicted.

Many would consider this to be too much responsibility for one child. In fact, he was sure their mother would have a fit if she ever knew he asked one of her youngest sons this favor. Bill, however, knew what he was doing.

When they were young, he had at once noticed that George always tried to help around the house when their mum needed it, something Bill could respect. With his old eyes and maturity, it was the reason why Bill always respected and treated him like an equal, more than even Charlie who was closest to him in age. If there was one thing Bill never judged was a person's appearance, because he knew looks were deceiving. More than that, he knew that George, not him, was the protector of the family, even when nobody else knew it.

Even though Bill thought this, he also knew that he would do everything possible to watch George's back if he could. George was keeping secrets, that much he could sense. Despite this, he wasn't going to force his younger brother for answers. If he wanted to talk about it, then Bill would listen. If he didn't, then he would wait his whole life for the day he would if he had to.

He ruffled the boy's hair, immediately causing him to scowl. Bill laughed at his expression and turned to go into the train. He looked behind him and gave an impish grin.

"And take care of yourself! Don't overburden yourself into keeping that promise." his voice softened so that only George could hear him. "I know you'll do fine."

The slight blush he received made him smile as he got on board.

Definitely still a kid.

***SSB***

Fred watched the train chug away, taking his older brother away from him. It made his heart drop to his stomach at the thought of Bill being somewhere where George couldn't watch over him.

After all, he knew better than anyone that Hogwarts was not as safe as people made it out to be. It wasn't like Dumbledore could be everywhere at once.

He felt someone behind him, knowing who it was without even turning around. He sighed, already feeling a headache coming on. Resigned, he turned around.

Now, anyone who would've looked at the girl in front of him wouldn't have given her a second glance. Even though she was exceptionally pretty, with her sleek black hair and red eyes, her ability kept anyone from really paying attention to her.

The mid-teen looking girl had an expression of complete boredom on her face. The evident pout already had George internally groaning. She was always hardest to deal with when she was in one of her moods.

"Your touching scene with your brother made me want to hurl." was the first thing that came out of her mouth."

"Nobody asked you to watch." he snapped.

"I was bored. Of course I was going to watch." she shrugged. "I rarely get to see you blush. Good blackmail material."

"Shut up!"

She smirked. "Oooh. Fighting back Weasley? Didn't know you were that forward."

"Got to hell." he retorted. Shaking his head, he began to walk away to where his family was, trying to get as much distance between them as possible. He already knew it was useless when she simply appeared right in front of him again. Bloody teleportation.

She winked and tapped his little nose. "You should know better by now insolent human."

"Think you got mixed up on the insolent part."

She smirked. "See, this is why I like you. You're not afraid of me."

"You're a bloody annoying deity who follows me around like a puppy. What the hell is there to be afraid of?"

Her ruby eyes flashed but she didn't deny it. George narrowed his eyes and pushed past her. She didn't chase after him.

"You know you've changed."

He stopped at that sentence and turned to face her, who's expression was blank as a paper.

"You know it's true. George Weasley is no longer George Weasley."

"Make sense if you're going to talk." he said coldly. Dread was starting to fester inside him. He really didn't want to talk about this again.

"Pushing your family away isn't going to solve anything." she said softly. She almost sounded concerned, which George tried to ignore.

He shifted his feet and looked at the ground, not seeing anything. "I lost them you know. I didn't take the chance to say good bye. I-I was an idiot." he stumbled out the last part in a whisper. Merlin, how he regretted that decision. He had done it without thinking, grief clouding his mind. Just looking at the younger version of his whole family made his heart ache. Every time he opened his mouth, he just wanted to tell everything.

He just wanted to cry.

He was surprised to see that she was standing in front of him now, both hands on her shoulders firmly in a way he was forced to look at her. Blood eyes pierced him and none of her previous mirth was present.

"It's been three years you fool. Let go for Hades sake. It's not going to do you any good if you're this much of an emotional wreck. _You can't save anyone if you're going to be emotionally compromised._"

While her bluntness usually irritated the hell out of him, he was glad this time by her honesty. He knew she was right, yet he couldn't.

He slowly grabbed her arms and pulled away. He looked her in the eyes steadily. "I can't promise anything now. I'm still grieving. But-" he swallowed hard, his shoulders squaring in determination. "But I swear I'll try. That's all I can give you right now."

She stared at him with assessing eyes, looking very much like the thousands year old deity she was. Then, she sighed.

"Zeuz's thunderbolt. You really are a piece of work." she rolled her eyes in an exaggerated manner. "I'm starting to regret sending you back in time."

"Deal with it. I'm not giving up." he said, uncompassionate.

"You better not. My superiors wants to sic on me ever since I got involved with you, _human_." she said the last word with mocking. She stepped away from him and did a peace sign with a playful smile. "Gotta get to me post now. See you later pussycat!" and before he could yell at her for the nickname, she vanished.

He stared at where she had been previously for a moment before giving out a long suffering sigh. He couldn't help but chuckle though when he saw a braided, red string on the ground from where she had been standing. He picked up the string and held it out in the train station light, illuminating the scarlet color.

On impulse, he pocketed the string and turned to his family, feeling lighter than he had been for a long time.

***SSB***

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**For those who don't know the Weasleys' ages, it is:**

**Bill: 1970**

**Charlie: 1972**

**Percy: 1976**

**Fred & George: 1978**

**Ron: 1980**

**Ginny: 1981**

* * *

**Well, thank you for reading and please review!**

**Oh, and please read THE BLACKS VOW which is my other story. Review if you could!**


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